


Our Home

by sellswordking



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2012-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-23 00:52:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sellswordking/pseuds/sellswordking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ori gets contemplative sometimes. All he needs is someone to remind him of his goal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Home

**Author's Note:**

> I have no words. Nor excuses. I just really love this pairing, guys.

It looked as if they weren’t going to have their burglar after all. Traveling all this way to the Shire only to find that Gandalf had been mistaken.  
  
Oh, it was nice enough there, true, and a good hot meal had been lovely. Dori had given him new quills after dinner and it had been fun to see everyone _smile_ again and to hear Dwalin play his violin nearly set Ori to melt.  
  
But it had all been a waste. And now Thorin was upset, and their chances were slim to none.  
  
Ori stood in the garden outside Bilbo’s home; it was _painful_ , to see this place. Bilbo lived alone, true, but the Shire was _warm_ and it was covered in flowers and the hobbits smiled so genuinely even at a passing dwarf. Even Bilbo’s hole was inviting and cozy, you could feel the love and fond memories around every corner. It was a _home_. Ori had been a child when they were taken from Erebor, practically a newborn, he had no memory of the place his brothers called home. Their parents had been lost in the labyrinth of broken buildings and blazing fire, and Dori had carried him out with Nori following on his heels. It had taken them years to settle; when Ori learned to speak and walk for himself and when to bathe and the way to braid his hair, it had all been done on the road.  
  
The place they’d settled while the others charged Moria was . . . calm, but it was no home. Not for lost dwarves.  
  
Ori had made do, however, and he had done so with a smile on. He read everything he could get his hands on; history of dwarves, of men, and even elves. Myths and old tales, and all about the evils that used to cover the land. He read about orcs and goblins, learned them inside and out. Ori never neglected his manors, nor did he fail to show appreciation to the place that had provided him and his brothers with a roof and a bed for years. He knew that it was no home, the knowledge was a constant in the back of his mind, but it had never _truly_ bothered him.  
  
Then they came to the Shire, to find a hobbit that would help them retake their home.  
  
Agreeing to come was originally just so that Ori could keep an eye on his brothers, and, _well_ , mister Dwalin was going to be there. But now, seeing this place so quiet and peaceful, made and kept with love and companionship that only came in a home? It forced Ori to see the journey they were on, and the importance of a place to keep in your heart.  
  
Never in his life had he hurt so much.  
  
Careful steps thumped against the ground behind him, avoiding the little flowers around their feet.  
  
“Are you alright?” Dwalin always sounded so soft when he spoke to Ori. Perhaps it was just that Ori heard what was beneath the words, used to the caring there that even when it was absent, he could still hear it well.  
  
Ori made sure to smile when he turned. “Of course, mister Dwalin!”  
  
Dwalin stepped closer and laid a heavy hand on Ori’s shoulder, pinning him to the spot. “We’re alone, Ori. You don’t have to be so polite.”  
  
Ori turned red. “Perhaps I want to be polite. I might just enjoy it.” Dwalin’s hand moved to cup his cheek, large thumb drawing an arc just beneath his eye. Ori stumbled a bit as his knees went weak. “I want to respect my elders and all.”  
  
“Respect your elder? I’ll show you some respect.” Dwalin tugged Ori up to his tiptoes and slotted their lips together, still tasting of ale from the meal earlier. His previously free hand was at the back of Ori’s neck, holding him still. Ori’s own fingers were twisted in Dwalin’s furs, clutching tight as their mouths opened to one another. Their sounds became slick and the heat from Ori’s cheeks traveled down to the pit of his stomach. His body was pulsing with the freshly sparked desire, his nipples pebbled beneath his knit cloak and soft tunic. Ori moaned quietly, near-melting in Dwalin’s arms.  
  
It was the first moment they had been _alone_ together since splitting up on the high road well before hitting Bree, and Ori could feel that Dwalin was just as desperate to re-establish their connection. Dwalin slowly ended the kiss with bites to Ori’s lips, allowing the little one to shiver his way back to normal.  
  
“ _Are_ you okay, Ori? Do you want to . . . are you thinking of going home?” Dwalin’s voice was so kind to him, it stirred something beside the arousal in Ori.  
  
A smile crept up to his lips, still shining from their kiss. “I am. Just like we all are. I want to go home, and make it _ours_ again.”  
  
Dwalin’s grin was matched only with the pride shining in his eyes.  
  
It hurt to see the Shire, but not because Ori was without a home. It hurt because it reminded him that he would have to wait just a little bit longer to make his home with Dwalin.


End file.
